


Vixen

by writingstudent



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingstudent/pseuds/writingstudent
Summary: Ivar x plus size!reader
Relationships: Ivar (Vikings)/Original Character(s), Ivar (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Ivar (Vikings)/Reader, Ivar (Vikings)/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	Vixen

**Author's Note:**

> You can buy me a coffee and support my work at: https://ko-fi.com/writingstudent  
> Accepting commissions - message me on tumblr for more information: https://writingstudent.tumblr.com/

You were headed towards the main hall, playing with the strings of your corset. You had to have it made specifically for you – the other corsets did not fit you without completely blocking your ability to breathe. You brush an annoying strand of hair out of your face, smirking when a boy trips over himself, too caught up in staring at you. “Are you ok?” You chuckled, your smile softening as you peered over at the boy. His cheeks reddened, and he stumbled back on his feet, awkwardly brushing off the dust from his clothes. “Yes, yes, I’m alright Lady Y/N, nothing to worry about.”

Your eyebrow quickly went up at the mention of your name, looking at the boy with confusion. You haven’t spoken to him previously, and Kattegat wasn’t exactly the smallest village. His eyes widened with realization and his cheeks only darkened further. “No, no, please don’t misunderstand milady, it is only that .. uh, Prince Ivar speaks very uhm, _often_ of you.”

Your eyes lit up immediately at the comment, twinkling with mischief. “Is that so?” Your sultry voice made the boy even more uncomfortable, as he quickly excused himself and headed off in the opposite direction. You couldn’t help but wear your smirk all the way to the main hall. You couldn’t help but love the way your dresses made boys stop and stare.

Upon your entrance, you immediately received the bright smile of Aslaug, who had initially been critical of you but grew to love your confident and assertive manner, as well as several glares thrown your way.

“Why do they even think she’s pretty?” A not-so hushed whisper was passed between two mistresses that sat at the table right in front of you, sickly sweet smiles plastered on their faces as they greeted you, pretending that they hadn’t intended nor noticed that you had heard their comment.

You had to force yourself to not roll your eyes. You knew your body type was different from theirs – most women in Kattegat were towards the thin side, having a mostly muscly and warrior type body, with not too many curves. You were chubbier compared to them. Growing up, you had gone through all the different types of bullying other kids could come up with. Yet puberty taught you a beautiful thing. You learned to love your body, and with your newborn confidence you couldn’t help but have the attention of all the men in Kattegat. You were simply a wonderful sight for sore eyes.

“Welcome Y/N! Take a seat wherever you like!” Her smirk showed her will to be entertained – she couldn’t wait for the quarrel between men that would follow, and the offended looks on other girls’ faces.

Immediately multiple men stood up, shouting across the room that there was a free spot next to them, resulting in them shouting at each other.

“Why would Y/N want to sit with you?! ”

“She certainly wants a real man to entertain her!”

“With your braids, you look more like a woman than anything!”

“Why at least I can attract someone, unlike your boar face!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the last remark, quickly trying to cover up your reaction with your usual poker face. It was too late now, the man who had shouted it bore a proud smile while the other sent death glares to him.

“Y/N is sitting next to me tonight. ”

Your blood ran cold at the sound of his voice. The whole room quieted down instantly, as even the Queen looked upon her son with shock. Ivar wore his usual cocky smirk, looking you straight into the eyes as if to challenge you to say otherwise. Sigurd took the opportunity to jump in.

“Why would she ever want a cripple? A man _incapable_ of pleasing her?” Sigurd hissed, his voice spreading through the room as it was the only one speaking.

Ivar growled at him, a genuine look of hurt crossing his face before being quickly replaced with anger. He grabbed his knife, taking it out of its hole in the wooden table, and making a move as if to lunge at his brother.

“Stop.” Your voice rang before Aslaug’s could.

Your eyes, suddenly ice cold, looked straight to Sigurd’s.  
“And who are you to speak for me ? ” Your voiced was laced with such venom that even Sigurd flinched back, forgetting that he was of a higher rank than you. Soon, your face was back to its usual position, a soft smile and seductive eyes, as you made your way next to Ivar.

You let your hand trace his jaw, as he followed your every movement, mouth agape. You tutted at him cheekily, tapping his chin in a “close your mouth motion”. That made him snap out of his trance quickly. You sat down next to him and looked at Aslaug expectantly.

“Let the feast begin!” 

Chatter filled the room again, and the tension dissipated. Ivar shook his head, as if he could shake off the stupor he was in. You were leaning on your elbow, drinking ale from your cup and listening to Ubbe’s conversation with other women. You felt a strong hand place itself on your knee, and slowly trail upwards, bunching up some of your skirts. Your breathing quickened, and your hands began to tremble with excitement. There simply was something that attracted you to the crippled prince. You had heard of different rumors – some saying that he was incapable of pleasing a woman. But simply looking him in the eyes brought you closer than any other man could without touching you. You also loved ticking him off, just to see his jaw clench and his eyes turn darker. Once the hand reached your upper thigh you shivered in anticipation, earning a soft chuckle from Ivar.

He leaned into you, softly biting your earlobe before his gruff voice whispered, “Do you know why you’re the only woman allowed to sit next to me during feasts?”

You feigned innocence, batting your eyelashes at him as he grabbed your chin, holding your face so close to his that your noses were touching and you could feel his hot breath on your lips. You had to use everything you had to refrain yourself from closing the gap and ravaging his mouth.

“Certain voices have been going around Ivar,” you nudged his nose upwards with your own, and trailed your lips towards his lips, “saying how you talk _often_ of me.” His cheeks reddened slightly, but he didn’t let go of his steel grip on you. “So tell me, what have you been saying?” You retreated back to your original spot, hiding your lips behind your cup. You felt so many eyes upon you, watching both with curiosity and jealousy. But the only gaze that mattered to you was Ivar’s stormy one.

“You see Y/N, all men here can agree that you have the most beautiful body. Compared to you, all other women here hold no attraction – they are as flat as a washing board and look like young boys.” You giggled lightly at his comment.

“You are so feminine, your curves are simply hypnotizing. Odin, I cannot stop thinking about them.” He breathed sharply, as if his own words were affecting him.

“And why should I choose to sit next to _you_ , when there are other men who think the same?” the words left your soft mouth in a tone so sickly sweet that it did not match their meaning at all.

“Because we both know that you may be a vixen, but you are _mine_.”


End file.
